


The Puppeteer

by StormBlue



Category: SD Gundam Force
Genre: Drinking, Kidnapping, Puppets, Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:40:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25031845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormBlue/pseuds/StormBlue
Summary: Jester's emotions and relationships turn out to be far more complex than he realizes. When his friends are kidnapped and he's the only one who can save them, he realizes a lot about himself and how he feels.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 3





	The Puppeteer

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of some "fan" Gundams in a specific AU universe I'm working on with a pile of other friends. The gundams themselves are actually fairly canon in the sense they existed in G Gundam, but adapted to the SD Gundam universe like every other canon character in the show. More over, this was also a commission with specific characters included. Enjoy! :D

Jester was bored. This wasn’t a new thing. Jester was almost always bored when he wasn’t in active conversation, or in active combat. Or, less favorably for everyone else involved, pranking. Thankfully, he was doing none of those things.

He was engaged in what Shamrock might have called a “quiet activity”. That is, he was sewing. Without even the slightest hint of irony at that. Jester would not have admitted to the Club Knight openly but he enjoyed it. It kept his hands busy and his otherwise scattered mind focused on one thing. Too, it gave him a bit of creative expression his lute playing and singing sort of lacked. You couldn’t create colors and shapes with sounds, now could you?

Certainly not.

And his subject for today was puppets. Five tiny little toy puppets made from good quality felt and thread he’d…obtained. He would certainly not say where, exactly, if asked. But he was proud of the work he was doing so far. Not perfect…at least not to the standards of Rhombus or Shamrock surely, but good enough. He thought Ludus might like it! Or maybe Blade? He was making Blade with especially large, shiny eyes and Ludus with a little cloth tulip for his cape. 

Shamrock’s puppet got shiny little plastic emeralds and Rhombus’s, of course, got tiny resin horns made especially for him. Only slightly lopsided at that. Small details that pleased Jester and kept his hands to himself, mostly. 

He had to admit, however…it was a little weird making himself into a miniature. His visor was difficult to sew, as was his helm fins. Those were frustrating. But, eventually, he got it. It looked a little wonky, but given his personality it was fitting! 

Were they works of art? Nope. Did he rush through them a little? Certainly. Was he happy with them? Of course.

Now, the question was…how was going to show them off to the Shuffle Knights? Their reactions would be varied, he knew. The one he know he could show them to outright was Ludus. The Heart Knight would be fondly exasperated, an expression that Jester found to be pleasant when applied to his leader. 

The rest? Well…

The next best might be Blade, although any allusion to the boy’s adorableness would likely be met with something sharp…after careful consideration, Jester grumbled and drew two angry eyebrows above the shiny black buttons of the puppet. There. Fixed.

“Bullocks.” Jester muttered. 

He…might actually have to consider bribing Rhombus into helping him with that. Right off the bat he knew he would need to hide Shamrock’s in the wizard’s own room. A challenge, if only because that little introvert almost never left…not to mention the menagerie of animals in residence to the mysterious place.

“…I should just give the bloody things to Ludus first and see what he thinks.” Jester concluded with a growl. He wasn’t looking forward to it per-say. He knew he should have been excited. Should have just showed them to everyone with their own explanations. But his brain just…refused to work that way. He knew they would all act a certain way but could never understand why. 

Which is exactly why he stuck with Ludus. Ludus understood and could put it into words that Jester could understand in turn. And, so, when he worked up the nerve, he was the first mech he approached outright. 

Compared to his leader’s room, his own was absolutely barren and without personality. The delicate smell of perfume and fine oils was always the first thing that hit Jester the moment he entered Ludus’s room, which was often enough to seem invasive to anyone else. To Ludus, it was a sign of trust. When Jester knocked it was met with an immediate greeting and Ludus’s typical amiable statement that the door was unlocked. It never was.

Even so Jester mindfully knocked the dust and grime from his armor and stepped in quietly, shouldering the door shut behind him. As per usual the Heart Knight’s room was ungodly bright, the east-facing balcony filtering in the late morning sun with absolutely no curtain or shade. Too, it was warm, but not uncomfortably so. Too, Ludus was found where he always was, poised on the bed in deep contemplation. He got up and walked over to Jester as soon as the other gundam entered. 

Jester grunted, swaying his helm fins from side to side, suddenly at a loss for words. “I made something for you?”

“Oh?” Ludus tilted his head patiently. 

“Y-Yeah, Shamrock…well, I imagine he was trying to keep me quiet, but he taught me how to sew a little. Figured I would make something for the lot of us.”

Meekly, Jester shuffled around and presented Ludus with the little cloth miniature. “It’s a puppet. It…well, bullocks, it probably sucks I think I did alright.”

Unexpectedly, Ludus immediately launched into a tirade of joy. “Oh, Jester! This is absolutely adorable. I love it. You recreated the colors perfectly and I love my little cape.”

Unused to getting any sort of compliment ever, Jester fought for words, and instead rattled the bells hidden in his armor until he was a blushing clamor of noise. “I, well! I do respect you more than about everyone else, so…er, I wanted to make sure yours was the best.”

At this point Ludus had his eyes closed and his face smooshed against the tiny toy as if it were a beloved pet. “I will certainly treasure this, Jester. Thank you.”

“D-Do you think the others will like them?” Jester asked suddenly. 

So suddenly that Ludus paused and lowed the toy but refused to put it down anywhere. “I’m sure they will, why do you ask?”

“Oh, don’t coddle me!” Jester huffed. “I know the others think I’m odd. Shamrock might just outright hate me. I don’t have any delusions about that.” The bells rattled once more. “Blade…I’m scared of Blade.”

Ludus sighed, laying a hand on the other’s pauldron. “You are strange, but so are the others. In their own way. Just because they don’t understand you, doesn’t you mean that should stop you from trying to do nice things for them. Take your time and approach them in ways you feel comfortable with. You don’t need to be direct.”

That seemed to comfort the Joker Knight. “I…yes, I figured that. I just needed to hear it from you. Thank you.”

Ludus chuckled. Jester thought it was a nice sound. Placating. “Well, I for one love my little gift to Hades and back and will never let it go. I can’t say how the others will react, but it’s always the thought that counts. Remember that.”

Jester nodded meekly. “I will, my lord.” 

Jester left shortly there after. The Heart Knight, privately, worried over Jester but could not help snuggling the toy to his chest for a time. It was a precious gift, really. Rare for Jester to want to do anything for others out of an overt fear of messing up somehow. Thus, it got a place of honor on the balcony. Perched on the hand of the angelic statue that welcomed the small flock of birds visiting his chamber. 

Sadly, as Ludus went back to meditating, a gale whipped through the balcony. Scattering birds, leaves, and taking the toy with it. Ludus, focused on inner thoughts, was unable to notice…

———————————————————————————————————————

Meanwhile…lacking any kind of conviction or overall urge to talk to Shamrock alone, the Joker Knight went out of his way to very literally slip into the shadows of the wizard’s chamber. He knew it was his from the crowing and howling and the animals there. Sticking to the shadows of the vines crawling in through nearly every available space, Jester came upon one of the owls. This one was white, speckled with black and named something like Hedwig or some such. He’d interacted with it before and the creature had never attempted to eat him, so he took that as a sign it liked him well enough.

Shamrock was there, tending to his animals as they mewled for his attention or otherwise talked to him in their own language. Jester, hiding in the shadows and too small to notice, slipped right by the Club Knight. 

“Hey, feather ball.” He rumbled affectionately, growing only large enough to hold the puppet aloft. “Would you mind giving this to your master? I’m afraid I’m too much of a wuss to give it to him myself.”

The owl, totally expressionless, none the less took the puppet into its talons and blinked as Jester giggled and vanished. Then it looked at the toy. Something like exasperation must have passed through its mind because the avian hopped over to the ledge and let it gently drop from its claws. It went tumbling down into the shadows hundreds of feet below the castle.

———————————————————————————————————————

Rhombus was located in his chambers like Jester predicted. Only Shamrock spent more time in his room, honestly, but at least it made Rhombus pleasingly predictable. He was also the easiest to approach next to Ludus himself. The mech answered after the standard three knocks. 

“Ah, Jester. This is a surprise. Is something wrong?”

“For once, no.” Jester sniggered. “Actually, I have something for you, and I need…advice.” 

Rhombus reacted as soon as he heard the word ‘advice’ and the heavy bronze door was shoved open immediately. “By all means, inquisitive alunno. Please come in.”

Having only been in the room a small number of times, Jester never got use to it. It was more of a library and a laboratory than a proper room. Not like Ludus’s or his own. Books everywhere. Astrolabes, compasses and research tools littered every spare space available.

Then he spotted Blade. The small gundam was nestled in a pile of books, clinging to a wooden stand sized more for mechs of Rhombus’s mass. Surrounded in a fortress of leather and vellum. Jester froze, a moment of terror twisting his circuits. It was immediately covered up as Blade turned and waved, apparently sociable for once. There were none of his ravens in sight, which caused some paranoia to creep over Jester, wondering if they were hidden in the eaves. Waiting to be summoned to attack if he annoyed the youngest of the Shuffle Alliance. For the Spade Knight to not be seen with even one, especially his lead raven, Medwin, certainly was concerning.

“Forgive the extra company, alunno, Blade challenged me to a sparring match but I had to finish another project. He decided to stay and help with research instead.”

“I’m not…interrupting much am I?” Jester asked uneasily.

“No, no. Of course not. I’m always open to questions. Come, sit.”

Jester did not want to sit, and so forced himself to get to the point. 

“I…made these for you both.”

At the mention of the word ‘both Blade’s tiny head popped out of the fortress of books, the picture of curiosity. Then Jester saw with barely contained horror as the boy’s expression twisted into a look of questioning annoyance.

“Puppets?” He muttered, stamping towards him. 

Rhombus began to rumble something in intervention, but Jester warbled and threw the remaining puppets at him, backing away. The smaller gundam was a fuse waiting to be lit. If he thought anything was done in mockery to his diminutive size and childlike appearance, well…as an awkward teen, he was who also armed with a vast arsenal of weaponry. Not to mention a flock of loyal trained ravens. All of whom possessed sharp claws and beaks. More unsettlingly, they could speak. Or, at least, the mimicry of speech. None the less, it freaked out the Joker Knight more than he cared to admit.

Jester’s fear was rampant, audios straining to try and hear the cry of ravens. 

Blade quickly went from annoyed to downright disappointed, snorting. “Childish.”

And then the puppets went right out the window. By then Jester had already fled. How, not even Rhombus could tell, but the older mech’s focus was not on the Joker Knight. 

“That was rude.”

Rhombus rarely, if ever, disciplined Blade so directly. And thus the boy was forced to stop and consider that he might have acted in haste. After all he tossed Rhombus’s lookalike as well. He tugged at his prized cloak, a treasured gift from Ludus, suddenly self-aware of his impulsive and shameful behavior.

“I…ja…ja, I was…those were gifts…”

“Go get them.”

“Ja, mach ich.”

And so he did. 

———————————————————————————————————————

Jester gasped, back pressed against the cold stone wall. He was now empty handed save for his own puppet. The fear was still fresh in his mind but it was soon replaced with incandescent disappointment. He looked his miniature in the eyes and growled. 

“This really is all your fault, isn’t it? Useless. Just like the one who made you.”  
He staggered over to the window, drunk on depression and let it tumble from his hand and into the whipping winds below. 

“Why do I bother with any of them? They’re just going to hurt me like those barmy brats back in Dain along with her Insane Highness, Queen Clingy.” Jester pulled himself away from the windowsill. “I really should just sod off. I’ve faffed around here too long as is.”

Annoyed with himself, he startled and melded into the shadows when he heard Rhombus rounding the corner. He refused to let the Diamond Knight see him sulking like this. It was embarrassing. 

Which was fine. He didn’t want to see anyone else but Ludus anymore, so sulk he would. Perhaps he could go talk to Shamrock’s animals again…

———————————————————————————————————————

Swirling in the sky, an all-seeing halo above his head, Blade’s ravens picked through the scree at the feet of the castle. He found Ludus and Shamrock’s earlier, apparently unintentionally tossed by some means, then discovered his after looping back around. Blade gazed up, seeing Rhombus peeking at him from his window far, far above. The imperious mech’s unseen visored gaze met his, nodded, and then vanished. He had only four of the five puppets. Jester’s…so where was it? Did Jester still have it?

Blade, unarmed and off guard, barely managed to react before a misshapen looking mech appeared, melding into the shape of a vast, reaching hand…his ravens squalled, diving at the stranger when their master was grabbed, but were easily swatted away. 

With nothing to defend Blade with, the lot of them became a cackling mass and vanished, fleeing for the forest surrounding the castle. Jester faintly heard the clamoring, but couldn’t understand them like Shamrock or Blade might. He was still nestled in the castle and could not give one single care at the moment. However, it didn’t hide the pit of disquiet snagging at his fuel box…he was not new to danger and so deep curiosity flickered briefly, his third eye beginning to burn… 

———————————————————————————————————————

Blade woke only when the mech, a stranger, dropped him face first on the bridge leading into the castle. He was not alone. Several feet ahead of him and the stranger, Ludus’s eyes could be seen staring through a sheen of angry sapphire rather than their usual calm magenta, blazing hatefully in the setting sun. Blade, tensing, found he could not move. Bound by ropes, it should have been an easy feat to escape, but the threads were…magically inclined. Silently, he fumed. But Ludus was worse.

“A man for a man.” Muttered the crab clawed stranger. Blade wasn’t able to get a good look at him, but he was top heavy and horrific. Nearly faceless, save for the single crimson eye flitting through too many eye slits. 

“Fine.” Ludus hissed, tone clipped. As he stalked towards the stranger even Blade felt some amount of fear towards his leader. Ludus was livid, one eye trailing a streamer of cobalt in the setting dark. He thought for sure they would come to blows but, instead, Ludus threw down his mighty bow and surrendered. 

The stranger cackled and Blade’s world went dark again as he was lifted and tossed violently towards his disarmed leader…

Ludus barely managed to stay upright but Blade had struck him on the left pauldron, knocking the boy out cold and putting the Heart Knight on the wrong foot. But he did not stumble. He refused to. He managed to catch Blade before he went crashing to the flagstones, fixating the stranger with an icy glare. Tiny, shadowy hearts formed around his hands, fragmenting with the sound of breaking ice. He could have controlled this mech with a mere thought, throwing the heart shards in his faceplate. Consuming the stranger with a hate he could not control… 

But he didn’t. Blade was likely wounded and if he happened to miss…

The cobalt gleam faded from his eyes, only for him to scream as the stranger laughed. From his claws came gleaming threads that shot through and into the Heart Knight’s armor like meat hooks. It was like being stung by a fire scorpion, and with it came a numbness that dulled every circuit in his heavy frame. 

Burbling uselessly, Ludus hunched over and went still. The vivd magenta of the mech’s eyes faded to grey, all emotion drained. 

The stranger, pleased with himself, barely reacted when the heavy wooden doors ahead of him were flung open and the remaining Suit Knights charged for him. The green one, Shamrock he recalled, was a swirl of emerald energy. And the blue one, Rhombus, was a storm made manifest, lightning wreathing his thunder hammer. Neither of them attacked, their magic faltering as they saw their leader and Blade. One totally unresponsive, the other totally under the stranger’s control.

“If you please, gentlemen.” The mech purred, placing something at his feet and jerking the strings connecting him to Ludus. The mighty warrior, stripped of his free will, hissed and magically drew his arrow lance in a flash of pink. “Do get in, or I will make your own leader kill you both.”

Shamrock, muttering his soft, drawn out language, threw his hands down. Dispelling energy that streamed off his fingers like falling leaves. “Monster!”

Rhombus, furious but calm, slammed the head of his massive thunder hammer into the flagstones and stood with arms crossed. “What are you playing at?”

“Oh, you’ll see…or rather, not.” The stranger howled out a summons and the object at his feet grew and grew…becoming sized for mechs his and their mass. As he continued to howl out his magic, he morphed into something truly horrible to behold. 

A giant, hovering hand. The thumb peered at them with the stranger’s single eye. Each finger thus held the strings that controlled Ludus, and the imprisoned warrior performed a quick, jerking bow. Blasphemously, Ludus spoke under the stranger’s will.

“Get in. Now.”

With little other choice, Shamrock and Rhombus shared a look and slunk towards the gundam sized dollhouse. Ludus’s hijacked body was already throwing Blade into its depths. “Please. Enjoy your stay…”

———————————————————————————————————————

Dictus was pleased, giggling to himself as his claws idly skittered against one another like the shearing of scissors. The fingers that he did possess held a glass of whiskey, which he drank from at a leisurely pace. On his lap sat the simple, but sizable dollhouse. It was of his own making, naturally. Stuffed into its interior were the not the puppets Blade retrieved, but the truer version of the Knights. All of them reduced to these harmless forms by the magic of his toy house. 

Yet, Dictus was annoyed. One was missing. The purple one, the Joker Knight…Jester, yes. When Ludus fell, the rest were easy to manipulate, but the trickster was nowhere to be found. This made him wary and made his drink taste sour. How inconsiderate. 

What he did not see was a single red eye that matched even his. It glared not with the purity of Ludus’s hate, but something that wanted to see Dictus dead. Jester waited in the lee of the darkness, his third eye shimmering out of view just as Dictus shivered and looked in its direction. A reckoning was upon him. 

Hissing warily, a single shimmering thread shot out from the tip of a claw and attached to one of the puppets. The one called Ludus, the Heart Knight. The details did not concern Dictus, but the feeling of dread moldering in his spine…did.

He yanked Ludus from the dollhouse just as a cackling, bladed half-moon shape spun at him like a crazed boomerang. Controlled by the strings, Ludus reverted to his true form the moment his body left the tiny house. Dictus, yanking him back like a reined in horse, forced the leader of the Shuffle Knights to block the sudden blow. Blank eyes stared back at Jester. Or, rather, at the crimson orb furiously burning the center of the Joker Knight’s forehead. Jester did not speak, but rather…laughed. In both confusion and anger. Then he withdrew, hissing then vanishing into the broad shadows thrown by the cliffs in the night.

Dictus growled, yanking on the strings once more until Ludus shouldered his bow and began to fire at the shadows. The puppeteer could only see the eye, sick with rage, darting to and fro. No blows landed. But neither did the trickster attack…not with his leader under control. Dictus chuckled.

“Come out and play, little clown. I have my own toys to play with.”

Jester’s only reply was a reverberating laugh that rang from every direction…but soon faded. Dictus watched, curious, as an inky violet pool simmered in the ground at his feet, revealing Jester and that one, unblinking eye. 

“Let us make a deal then. A trickster…verses a puppeteer.” Jester hissed, his tone dangerous and almost psychotic. 

“A game then.” The crab clawed mech toed warily at the pool of ink. “A drinking game, rather.” Had he a face he would have grinned. “If you win, I will set your friends free…if I win…”

“I will surrender.” Jester finished, a snarling laugh. “Very well.”

He emerged from the pool, wet with ink for a moment before the magic dissipated in streams of dark fire. The eye was no longer there and Dictus felt himself relieved. 

Jester wanted this mech dead. Seeing Ludus’s free will stripped did…something to the mech that he could not explain, but he wanted revenge. A plan was already forming in his head as Dictus reined in his leader once more and retrieved the dollhouse at his feet. It didn’t take him long to see what it was, or who was inside of it. 

Puppets. But not his. He knew they weren’t, because he had his originals. Dropped by Blade when the young Knight was captured. Either these were clever fakes or the puppeteer had done something to the rest of them. 

Jester paused, moving his eyes from the dollhouse then back to Ludus. He considered severing the deal with Dictus and just…cutting Ludus free. Just Ludus. That would have been enough. The others…

No. They didn’t deserve that fate. And so he forced himself to remain still. He could feel the burn of his magical third eye, but he held it back again, for now. He snorted as Dictus rumbled pleasantly and pulled a heavy bottle of whiskey out from behind a boulder.

“My preferred drink, of course.” He tossed a shot glass to Jester, which was caught in midair. “I am Dictus, if you care to know.”

“I don’t.”

The other laughed. “Just as well. I don’t care either, I already know yours. The rules are splendidly simple. Drink once, turn the glass over and tap it twice. Each takes their turn until the other yields. You officially yield by keeping the glass upright and tapping it once…or passing out.” Dictus clarified, inviting Jester to sit upon the bare, stony ground.

“Whatever.”

“To the point, then.” Dictus found his perch upon a rock and leaned back, the very picture of casual as he forced Ludus to sit with them. “Would you like your…friend to join?” He giggled. Ludus twitched and moaned. 

Jester seethed. “No. I would not.”

“Just as well.”

And so the game began. Jester was made to drink first. The liquid was bitter and tasted like he was consuming concentrated wood varnish. His anger did not help the flavor at all. But he forced it down, turned the glass over and tapped it twice. Dictus, who was having a little too much fun with this, drank his and did the same.

“You know, we have much in common, clown.”

“Sod off.” Jester drank and tapped.

“So blunt!” Dictus rumbled, drank and tapped. 

“I’m not in the mood, puppeteer. I want my friend back.”

“Just the one?” The shimmering string connecting him to Ludus shivered and the Heart Knight gagged, as if strangled. 

“All of them.” Jester corrected himself with a snarl, violently downing his next shot. The glass hit the stony ground with such force the rim cracked.

Dictus hid a nervous laugh behind his face plate, that single eye dancing with mirth. “All of them, then. But you are looking rather…inebriated, my dear victim.”

“Hrm…” 

Ignoring the other, Dictus finished off his next glass and stared blearily at the nearly finished bottle. “Mm, seems as though we are men of culture. The bottle is starting look rather dry.”

Another shot went down Jester’s gullet and the concealed eye burned hotter. Behind the puppeteer, pools of violet-dark ink bubbled, sinking the dollhouse into their depths even as the Joker Knight swayed like an impatient animal. He took another shot and coughed.

Dictus, well into the drink himself, began to titter and tilt. “Oooh, so even you have a tipping point. Well, should we wrap this up and spare you the indignity? Mm?”

Jester, hissing, forced himself upright and plopped the glass down upright, tapping it…once.

“Beautiful!” Dictus cackled, claws snapping and shearing loudly. “Perhaps you should rethink your title. Victory is mine! But…I suppose I can leave you here to contemplate defeat with your leader rather than add you to my collection. The others are enough.”

One by one each thread connecting him to the Heart Knight came free, leaving Ludus to flop messily forward. The process sounded painful because the Knight gasped in agony, spasmed, and then went still. 

Jester, just as defeated…slumped to the ground beside Ludus, insensate as Dictus crowed his victory. Breaking the now empty bottle over Jester’s head, he retrieved his dollhouse and staggered away… 

Only…Jester woke seconds later. His head ached from the alcohol and the rather brash blow to the cranium, but his magical mono-eye burned once more. Mutters of laughter boiled up from the ground and soon a pool of darkness opened next to his prone form. Three puppets emerged. Only…these were perfect recreations. No angry marker brows on Blade. No delicately uneven horns on Rhombus…and the moment they were set on the ground by hundreds of ghostly lavender hands, they reverted to the mechs they had been. 

Another gasp of air drew Jester’s wavering attention to the gundam beside him. Ludus was waking up. Slowly. Memories were misplaced and blurry, but he came to attention with such speed even Blade would have been envious.

“Jester! I…” The mech’s eyes were once more a deep magenta. 

“He’s gone. Apparently his name was…ah, who cares.” Jester slurred, unable to stand as his eye quieted, his rage subsiding with his allies safe. His berserker “Wild Joker” side smothered once more. Rhombus had to amble over and help him up.

“What happened? I remember another mech, but…” Blade shook his head, waking as well. “I was grabbed and couldn’t get free. The strings…”

“Were magic.” Jester coughed. “He was…ow, just…set me down. He was using them to control Ludus. I got…I was enraged, then…” He shook his head, bells softly ringing. “I wanted to kill him. I wanted to leave him there to rot while I got Ludus free.”

Blade toed around. “I don’t see a body.”

“You won’t find one. I didn’t kill him. I tricked him, because he had all of you trapped inside some bloody dollhouse that turned you all into puppets. Ironic, right?” Jester laughed, coughed again then nearly vomited. 

The boy looked away, something like shame flashing through his eyes. But Jester only groaned and shook his head once he had control of his fuel box again. “Doesn’t matter. We played a drinking game; meanwhile I stole that absolute muppet’s dollhouse and replaced you all with the puppets I made. He left drunker than a fish, thinking you three were still in there.” 

Rhombus paused, still holding Jester upright. “That is…a very well planned yet spontaneous trick.”

“Did you just compliment me…?”

“Of course I did, alunno.”

“Shut up…” Jester muttered, but didn’t really mean it. 

Without prompting, Blade came forward. “I am sorry that I threw your puppets out the window. If you hadn’t made them and that…stranger managed to grab us, who knows what would have happened.”

The Joker Knight clapped. “Thus you’ve learned the art of irony. Please, never try to stab me again.”

Even Shamrock knelt beside him, willingly, and placed a hand over Jester’s dented skull. A few drawn out words and the pain eased considerably. 

“And I am sorry I have spurned you for so long.” The Club Knight spoke. “You might be a fool, but that is a word you take to with all meanings. Not just…the negatives.”

“Sure thing…whatever that means.” Jester was too tired to be bashful about it. 

He heard Ludu’s warm chuckle in his audio receptor for a moment before being physically lifted onto the Heart Knight’s back. “I shall carry you home myself, dear friend.”

———————————————————————————————————————

Swaggering and swaying, Dictus hauled his prizes safely within the confines of his dollhouse. Whiskey had put him out of sorts, but he was lucid enough to scurry back to his queen and the rest of the royal family. He was without two key members, though he was stretching that definition with Jester. But for what it was, he considered the mission a rousing success. If not, he could frame it as a staged operation. He knew where they lived now. Hidden as it was, the keep was awfully hard to miss once he knew where to look. 

All of that he could report to the queen once he sobered up. When he sobered up. The mountain he crawled across now was best scaled in his hand form. Obscene, really, but he delighted in the unorthodox and the uncanny. 

However, the chill air was howling at him, whipping frigid winds through his fingers as sharp as a flog. He grunted, reverted, and sat within a curve in the rock to rest and sleep off his drunkenness. He giggled and clapped, setting his dollhouse on his lap once more and rattling its occupants with a hiss. 

“…Hrm, when did I manage to get all five?” His eye stared through one of the tiny windows, where all of the puppets stared back at him. 

They were a bit different than he remembered. A tiny bit lopsided and the sewing was good, but not great. Some of the materials looked entirely handmade by an amateur. 

“Does it matter, really?” He grinned and leaned back, staring into the night black, cloudless sky. “I have them. They’ve nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. The queen is always watching regardless.”

He giggled and rested his flushing face against the cool stone. “All will be well for the puppeteer and the show will go on…”


End file.
